iSQ-; 



THE AMERICAN BEE KEEPER. 



317 



TO 0^i THAT CHiD HiiVi FOR UAl H- 

 ERING THE LATEST ROS^o. 



As fickle as an A-?2 il morn, 

 Oc'to^3cr ^vi.ll his cliivin^ rr.in 



Now siiifiio tlie gaiL.eji 3 ;: ;is forlorOf 

 Now broke in smiles again, 



Cryinpr, "We tarry all too late." 

 Eaeli ciher flower droo'iecl her head. 



But daivi'-less .s.ill tliey kept their siate, 

 The roses wliite and red. 



And, '-We shall reign," they said, "for 

 Ion?." 

 I gailie-.ed them for yovxr delight. 

 "Nay, 111 n, you did them cruel wrong. 

 The rosts red and white. 



"For thoy had gladdened many a day, 



Detyiiv,' siill ihc^ somber ti:;ie, 



Aniia \'.:v wliirlinj lea%-e^' decay 



Recalling summer's prime." 



Tlien 1: "How sorrowful their lot, 

 \Mio tiuecned it at the gar lien's courti 



To linger on when joy is not. 

 To be the jnad wind's sport; 



"To feel iheir draggled petals fall, 

 EaL-ii !'l 'V o'lhcr, dierciiei and coH, 



Till now liie bhist Las dashed them Uil 

 Upon the chilly mold. 



"A royal sepulture they crave — 

 Eefnse not tliou a last beh<!st> — 



One Lour lo live in be:iu:y biave, 

 Then die upon tliy breast." 



— H. C. Minchin in Spectetor. 



FOlKilVEN. 



Dusk was beginning to fall, and as I 

 looked round over the long level of 

 mar.sh land that surrounded us and saw 

 no .sign of any of our party I felt the 

 first thrill of a not unpleasant uneasi- 

 ness. I glanced at my companion. She 

 was walking quite contentedly by my 

 side, apparently secure in the assump- 

 tion that I knew my way. As a matter 

 of fact, I had the gravest doubt about it 

 and there £te::;ed no possibility of mak- 

 ing sure. For miles on either hand the 

 marsl vs stretched to the low horizon. 

 The cny tracks were few and ill defined 

 and already a light white mist was ris- 

 ing over the numerous straight water- 

 ways, llof'.icd at Miss Pascoe again, 

 and my untasiness gave place to a kind 

 ot exptctanl pleasure. Even supposing 

 we vitre lost, there was no actual dan- 

 ger, and the great sense of solitude that 

 hung about us gave me a feeling of pos- 



session that was keenly delightful. Miss 

 Pascoe, unconscious of my doubtful 

 cogitations, still walked on as though 

 her feet were upon a familiar road, and. 

 indeed, as far as I could judge, we wete 

 making in the right direction. To have 

 stopped would have been like a confes- 

 sion of incompetence on my part, and 

 this to an unavowed lover was out of 

 the question, at any rate until circum- 

 stances unquestionably had me at a dis- 

 advantage. So we went on, and the 

 twilight deepened, and the mist trailed 

 in denser wisps across the shivering 

 reed beds. 



Suddenly she turned to me. 



"What a queer place this would be to 

 get lost in," she said. 



I think the serious possibility of such 

 a thing haa not occurred to her at all. 

 She threw out the remark merely as a 

 contribution to a flagging conversation. 



"Yes," 1 said. "But you're not 

 afraid, are you?" 



"Oh, no; not at all! Of course you 

 know the way, and that makes all the 

 difference. " 



"Of course it does, " I answered, with 

 a glimmering sense of shame. 



"How fur are we from home now?" 

 she asked after a pause, in which the 

 darkness had perceptibly increased. 



"Three miles, I dare say," I said at a 

 blind hazard. 



"That's nothing," she said. "I 

 thought we must be quite four." 



"Are you sure you're not tired?" I 

 asked. "Wouldn't you like to rest?" 

 But she persisted in walking on at that 

 swinging pace of hers. 



"Even if I wanted to rest there's 

 nothing to rest on," she said. 



"I'm sure I could find a fence some- 

 where, ' ' I said. 



"I don't believe you could," she 

 said, ' 'but I'm not going to let you try. 

 I'd much rather get home." 



We walked on silently for another 

 five minutes, and then Miss Pascoe 

 stopped and listened, leaning forward 

 slightly, with her hair blowing about 

 her face. 



"Is that the sea?" she asked. 



It was the sea unmistakably, the 

 slow roll mingled with the rustle of 

 the wind ovei the rushes. And then it 

 became quite obvious to me that I had 

 woefully gone astray, for the sea was 



